An Open Letter To Cal Football From A Desperate Devil

After having nearly a week to process everything that happened on the field last Saturday when the University of Arizona visited Tempe, I can proudly say I'm not nearly as bitter as I once was (impressive, I know). But even six days later, there is still a nagging feeling of inadequacy that reappears every time I see an image of Sparky. And thus, I felt the need to create this short plea to Cal football. Enjoy.

Dear University of California, Berkley:

I come to you in a time of desperation (and humiliation). As a student of the great university of Arizona State and a proud Sun Devil I ask you all for one small request: please, put fans of the maroon and gold everywhere out of their misery.

See, our ESPN-televised season finale against you guys was supposed to be the triumphant cherry on top of one Pac-12 South title sundae. Now it's just the final act of desperation from a team entirely undeserving to even watch the inaugural championship game at Eugene, let alone play in it.

I know, "a win is a win" and it doesn't have to look pretty as long you get there but I look at it as more of delaying the inevitable. With a USC win over UCLA and a Utah victory against the bottom-feeding Buffaloes, all it would take is Arizona State W to claim what this fan base has been salivating over since the 43-22 romping against the Trojans back in late September.

But would any Sun Devil in the right mind want that? So we can continue to keep the ever-so-popular Dennis Erickson regime on life support before Oregon pulls the plug?

Yes, I know I might get called a bandwagon fan or not a true ASU enthusiast by some of the more die-hards, but I like to think of current situation as the end of the movie 'Titanic" (And no, not just because the Arizona State football ship capsized last week against Arizona and is now sinking fast).

Near the final credits of the best picture winning film, the young lovebirds Jack and Rose are floating in ice-cold water, clinging on to dear life. Rose, the fortunate one, is laying on a  small piece of debris while Jack does the apparently romantic thing and just clutches the side. Finally, Celine Dion starts playing and the lifeboat comes around to save the two shivering protagonists. Sadly, Rose turns over to Jack's frozen corpse and sees well...that he's a frozen corpse. She then whispers the movie's most dramatic lines "Ill never let go; I promise," and then proceeds to do the opposite, dropping his lifeless ass and swiming to safety (and some other dead guy's whistle; same difference).

Anyways, in this lovely scenario this year's ASU football team is Jack and we the fans are Rose. Sure, it was tough letting go after our relationship showed so much promise/they drew us naked, but sometimes you've just got to know when to call it quits. I mean, we could always pull a "Weekend At Bernie's" and carry around a dead Jack but unfortunately, life isn't a bad 80s movie. In reality, life is a cruel mistress that sometimes steals the highest highs (starting off 5-1) and replaces them with the lowest lows (finishing 1-4).

So please Cal, I beg you: despite how much we may struggle, please just come out and be the better team for a full 60 minutes. That way, Dennis Erickson can apply to the nearest Jimmy John's as soon as possible and Lisa Love can begin courting Kevin Sumlin or any another coach who can instill those words rarely spoken in Tempe:  "discipline and desire."

Love,

One bitter Sun Devil fan